Archives: Beer

I celebrated yesterday with MBW and the HA. You know why? Of course you don’t. So I’ll tell you: Saturday, May the Fifth, I completed the first draft of Chale Thorson Book One: The Jade Dagger. (What do you think about the series title? I’m still considering it.)

So that’s NanoCon Mk. V done. What is NanoCon? It is a science fiction convention hosted by the science fiction club of Longview Community College in Longview Washington, a port town on the Columbia River about an hour from the Pacific. It isn’t big. I doubt two hundred people attended. Hence, I presume, “Nano.”

I have been in the funny book business for over twenty years now. This year’s Emerald City Comic Con was my first comic book convention. Yeah, I don’t believe in dipping a toe in; I plunge head-first into the deep end.

Once you have a kid, selecting a place to eat requires factoring in considerations other than quality, cost, and distance. Locating kid-friendly restaurants becomes a constant, background, priority. For those of us who enjoy beer and brewpubs, this search demands even greater focus. One approaches a new prospect with both hope and trepidation.

OryCon returned to (almost) its former site for the 39th installment of the convention. The Red Lion on the Columbia River was home to the first several OryCons I attended, beginning back in the late ‘80s. The Red Lion owned two hotels, bracketing I-5 with views of the bridge. The west side hotel hosted those early events. This year the convention returned from many years deep in the heart of Portland to this border hotel, facing across the river into enemy territory: Washington State.

The leaves are dropping, exposing the bare wooden scaffolding of the trees. The rain is either a constant or an intermittent irritant. Moments of warmth are welcome rarities. Yes, the dismal season is upon us until Spring comes to our relief.

And so, we party. There’s a reason we call it the holiday season. Halloween, Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Year’s Eve in rapid sequence. Why? Because the days are short, gray, and miserable and remind us of our mortality. When faced with thoughts of death what do we do? We gather up our friends and family and we eat and drink, deliberately focusing on the positives. Each beer, each glass of wassail is a middle finger to the skeletal fellow with the black cloak and sickle.

The drive down I-5 to Eugene, Oregon suffered from the typical bottlenecks that develop when both the University of Oregon and Oregon State University host home football games on the same day. Occasional squalls and heavy, lowering cloud banks hinted that the night’s game would be a wet one.

What a weekend. I’m writing from a hotel lobby in Los Angeles. I mentioned before that a creative organization was flying me down to LA to participate in a writer’s workshop. Well, that’s done. Now I can recap the weekend while waiting for my ride to the airport.

The flight down was fine. Enjoyable even. Shuttle van hell proved less joyful. Let’s just say the trip from airport to hotel required two hours. And let’s never speak of it again.

LA is warm. Did you know that? The blocks are too long and they radiate and magnify the heat. But the tacos are good. Thank you, Daniel, for the tour. Beverly Hills, Rodeo Drive. Done and done. I’d come back for the tacos at Grand Central Market. The rest is fine, if you go in for that sort of thing.

Karl Strauss Brewing tells me LA’s beer scene is coming along nicely. I could ask for a greater concentration, but as a visitor I’ll humbly accept what I can get.

The workshop was a treat. The list of mentors, faculty, and speakers was — with the exception of yours truly — distinguished. In fact the roster of student/attendees was impressive. I’m not going to name drop, so you’ll just have to take my word.

My part of the proceedings went off without a hitch. I don’t believe I embarrassed myself. The conversations over the course of the weekend scintillated and entertained. Well worth the trip. Hard to believe I got paid for this. I mean, I’m going to cash the check, don’t get me wrong. But the weekend proved more pleasure than work.

I feel energized. I’m looking forward to opening the laptop again once I’m on the plane and letting the words flow. The goal: complete chapter two before Portland.

True, misfortunes may come not as single spies but in battalions. (Or something like that. I’m too lazy to look up the actual line from “Hamlet.”) On the other hand, good news can clump as well. I provided an update a couple of weeks ago on doings along the writing front. Now there is more.